With a
gentle creak from the basket, the hot-air balloon lifted off effortlessly, carried on the
gentlest of breezes, skimming the tops of thorny acacia trees as it climbed into the still
cool air. It was just before six in the morning, and the African sun was peeking over the
horizon at the start of another blisteringly hot day in Etosha National Park, Namibia. As
soon as we were clear of the trees, I climbed out of the basket to stand on the camera
platform -- a crude, wooden table top attached by steel wires to the balloon. The platform
afforded a spectacular view of the landscape passing below, a

wilderness surrounding the flat Pan -- sometimes a lake, but most often a desert, a
place of shimmering mirages. As our balloon carried the pilot, Richard Turnbull, and I
across the vast tract landscape of Etosha, we enjoyed a privileged view of the African
dawn; the leaves of mopane trees reflecting the first soft rays of the sun like shining
emeralds, and below them, dik-dik and the harcs scurried for cover, startled by the
balloon's giant profile. For the filming, the balloon was a wonderful tool, for it --
combined with Richard's expert flying -- allowed the camera to literally brush across the
tips of grass blades before lifting up to several hundred feet, putting the landscape into
dramatic perspective.